"Lo! the dauntless band return, "Furious for the fight they burn! "Lo! auxiliar nations round, "Crowding o'er the darkened ground "Corses fill thy trenches deep; "Down thy temple's lofty steep "See thy priests, thy princes thrown "Hark! I hear their parting groan! "Blood thy lake with crimson dyes, "Flames from all thy domes arise! "What are those that round thy shore "Launch thy troubled waters o'er? "Swift canoes, that from the fight "Aid their vanquished monarch's flight; "Soon thy lord a captive bends, "Soon thy far-famed empire ends; Line 18th, When the Spaniards had forced their way to the centre of Mexico, Guatimozin, the reigning emperor, en Otomèca shares thy spoils, "Tlàscalà in triumph smiles. "Mourn, devoted city, mourn! "Mourn, devoted city, mourn! "Cease your boast, O stranger band, "Conquerors of my fallen land! "Avarice strides your van before, "Phantom meagre, pale and hoar! "Still opposing claim to claim; "Kindred demons haste along! "Haste, avenge my country's wrong!" deavoured to escape in his canoes across the lake; but was pursued and taken prisoner by Garcia de Holguin, captain of one of the Spanish brigantines. Line 2d, The Otomies were a fierce, savage nation, never thoroughly subdued by the Mexicans. Tlascala was a powerful neighbouring republic, the rival of Mexico. Line 10th, Alluding to the dissentions which ensued among the Spaniards, after the conquest of America. Ceased the voice with dreadful sounds, Loud as tides that burst their bounds; Rolled the form in smoke away, Amazed on earth the exorcists lay; Pondering on the dreadful lore, Their course the Iberians downward bore; Their helmets glittering o'er the vale, And wide their ensigns fluttering in the gale. L. ON THE DEATH OF ROBERT LEVETT.-JOHNSON. CONDEMNED to hope's delusive mine, As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blasts, or slow decline, Our social comforts drop away. Well tried through many a varying year, Officious, innocent, sincere, Of every friendless name the friend. Yet still he fills affection's eye, Obscurely wise and coarsely kind; Nor lettered arrogance deny Thy praise to merit unrefined. When fainting nature called for aid, The power of art without the show. In misery's darkest cavern known, No summons mocked by chill delay, The modest wants of every day His virtues walked their narrow round, The single talent well employed. |